


The Once and Future King and The Greatest Warlock

by boywholivednotdied



Series: Merthur Party 2013 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywholivednotdied/pseuds/boywholivednotdied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's weird being the court sorcerer</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Once and Future King and The Greatest Warlock

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaboration story. I've written Merlin's point of view. You can find...  
> Arthur's POV here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1099678 written by Riss (dylanobrolin.tumblr.com)  
> The Dragon's point of view here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1101190 written by Liz (larielaris.tumblr.com)

Everything was familiar but strange.  
  
Merlin knew these rooms better than he knew his spells. He’d spent hours cleaning them and making these beds… yet, now they were his. They were his own chambers. His clothes were in the closet, his books were on the bedside and someone else was making the beds and cleaning the floors.  
  
He knew the main hall, of course, but it seemed different from the front. He was so used to standing at the back with the other servants. But now he was seated on a chair by Arthur’s side, looking upon people’s faces as opposed to their backs or their profiles.  
  
Everything was different. It felt dizzying.  
  
Most of all, Merlin had to remind himself that he could use his magic in front of Arthur. He was in a habit of hiding it, and so occasionally started in surprise when Arthur would turn to him, his azure eyes wide and earnest and say, “Can’t you just do it with magic?”  
  
Though sometimes it wasn’t what Arthur was saying, so much as the way he was saying it.  
  
Arthur always had this… look. A look that he reserved specially for Merlin. A look that could make Merlin melt inside. Because while Arthur’s lips always said something obnoxious, his eyes said something different. They always had.  
  
But there was something different in the way he looked at him now… after that cold night in his chambers when he confronted him and Merlin confessed. There was something in that look. Merlin couldn’t count the amount of times he’d caught Arthur staring at him with that unreadable expression in his eyes.  
What was he thinking? Did it mean anything?  
  
Merlin knew what he hoped it meant, even though it couldn’t have meant that. Not when Gwen was in the picture. She was beautiful, courageous, wise… how could anyone want a clumsy oaf like him over that? Yet Merlin wished it was true. And he felt guilty for wishing it was true. Gwen was his friend… how could he harbour thoughts about her…  
  
It didn’t matter. He was going to push it aside because it didn’t make any difference. What actually mattered was that his dream had been realized. Arthur knew the truth and now Merlin was where he belonged. By his side.  
  
But there was a small part of him that missed the way things used to be. Not that he wanted to go back to hiding his magic… but as a servant, Merlin had the advantage of being at Arthur’s side all the time. Not just in court. However, now Arthur had a new servant, Timothy, and he was the one who got to be by Arthur’s side. He was the one who got to bathe him and dress him and be in his chambers in the middle of the night.  
  
It didn’t _bother_ Merlin. Obviously Arthur needed a new servant. But it made him squeamish picturing Arthur sharing the same kind of intimacy they shared, with… well, with someone else.

It was the end of a long, hot day and Merlin felt like the meeting had dragged on for weeks. He had presented his idea on how to create a sanctuary for the druids who were being attacked by King Bayard, and was greatly relived to finally be done with it. Even though he had received an applause from the knights when he was done, his queasiness hadn’t gone away until he was seated firmly back in his chair. He never had quite gotten the hang of public speaking. But then again, it could have been worse… at least Arthur was by his side. He risked another glance at the king and grinned when he noticed him staring. Once again, he had that unreadable expression in his eyes. Merlin muttered a spell under his breath and Arthur’s head flew sideways, so that he was staring straight ahead.  
  
“Merlin!” He hissed, struggling to move.  
  
“You should be paying more attention, your highness.” Merlin drawled, flippantly.  
  
Arthur glared at him as best as he could and Merlin released the neck-locking spell, trying to stifle his laughter. He made eye-contact with Gwaine who grinned at him.  
Merlin knew he shouldn’t have been messing around in the meetings, but sometimes Arthur asked for it. Plus, after all the missed opportunities to mess with the royal prat when he was hiding his magic, it was hard not to irritate him with it now that he had the freedom to do so.  
  
The meeting finally ended with a few issues being resolved and the court was adjourned. The knights filed out and Gwaine and Percival waved to him as they left the hall. Leon gestured for him to follow them, but Merlin lingered at the round table, pretending to be busy but in actuality just shuffling around some papers. As he suspected, Arthur hung around too, awkwardly scuffling his feet. As soon as the hall emptied, Arthur turned to look at him, and Merlin purposefully avoided his gaze knowing the effect those electric blue eyes had on him.  
  
“Something on your mind?” he asked the king, nonchalantly.  
  
“You like the power don’t you?” Arthur asked, a small smile playing on his lips.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord.”  
  
“Come now, Merlin.” He said, leaning on the table, “No need to play dumb with me.”  
  
Merlin finally turned to face him, and for a second their blue eyes met. A hundred things rushed through Merlin’s mind and he opened his mouth to admonish Arthur for his words. Arthur was the one who was born to rule - to command - and Merlin had always been content to help from the shadows. Of course, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy finally being acknowledged for all that he had done, but that’s all he had ever wanted. He just wanted Arthur to know what he’d done. He didn’t, and never had, wanted the power. But he realized quickly that that wasn’t the way Arthur had meant it.  
  
“It’s not about the power,” Merlin said softly, “It’s about the freedom to be who I am.”  
  
Arthur’s mouth fell open slightly. A deep pain appeared in those eyes and Arthur’s lips twitched, almost as if he was wishing he could turn back time and make things easier for Merlin. Or perhaps Merlin was just interpreting the look wrongly.  
  
“I am thankful for all that you’ve done, Merlin. I hope you know that,” Arthur said, quietly, “Everything we have now, the people we’ve become, the kingdom we’ve built… it’s all thanks to you.”  
  
Merlin felt his face get hot and he quickly dropped his gaze. He rubbed at a groove on the round table, hoping Arthur couldn’t see the hint of a smile he was desperately trying to hide. He opened his mouth to reply, but his words were stolen by the clanging of warning bells.

 

Merlin roared a spell and the bearded man was thrown back against the wall. He groaned in pain and tried to gasp out a counter spell, but before he could, Merlin had wordlessly thrown out another. An invisible hand grabbed the man by the neck and dragged him up the wall. The man struggled against the force of the magic, his legs flailing wildly. It was only when Merlin heard the unmistakable sound of Arthur’s steps behind him that let go of the man, who fell amongst the rubble of the great hall… a rubble that he had created while Merlin and Arthur were out looking for him in the hallways. A painful lump rose in Merlin’s throat as he realized that Sir.Elkit was lying dead somewhere under that rubble. He was tempted to shoot out another spell, to cause the man a little extra pain, but he restrained as Arthur stalked up to the crumpled figure. The king poked the tip of Excalibur into the man’s chest.  
  
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Arthur demanded, his face hard. Merlin could see the rage behind his eyes. Uther had taught Arthur to hide his emotions, but Merlin knew he felt more for his men than anyone else in the kingdom.  
  
“I am the true Emrys.” The man spat.  
  
Merlin almost laughed.  
  
“I have come to claim my title.”  
  
_If you’re the true Emrys, then why have I been running after this prat this whole time?_ Merlin wanted to ask, mentally reprimanding himself for even thinking about making jokes at a moment like this. He turned to Arthur and was surprised to see the prince standing tall, his jaw set.  
  
“There is only one Emrys,” Arthur proclaimed, “And he stands here beside me.”  
  
There was something about the way he said it that filled Merlin with the utmost pride.

 

Merlin had been unable to sleep properly the night before.  
  
He couldn’t stop thinking about the man from the previous day. He was a druid man, which was surprising, as the druids were usually a very peaceful people. He was claiming he was ‘the true Emrys', and that Merlin had stolen his form so that he could take over Camelot. It was all rubbish of course, and everyone knew it. But it shocked Merlin. Just a few months ago, he was a nobody. The worst servant in all of Camelot. The name Emrys was known only to a few. Yet now he was ‘King Arthur’s sorcerer. The Greatest Warlock ever to have walked the earth’. Now, there were conspiracy theories surrounding him. There were people who were claiming to be him. It made him nauseous.  
  
“Excuse me.” A voice from behind Merlin said.  
  
Merlin turned around to see Arthur’s new servant, Timothy, standing behind him holding a heap of clothes. He looked extremely disgruntled and Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle.  
  
“Driving you crazy?” he asked, smiling.  
  
The boy shrugged. “You know how it is. You were his servant before, weren’t you?”  
  
Merlin nodded. “Overworked me to the bone.”  
  
“He has his days,” the boy agreed, “But honestly it ain’t too bad. He doesn’t talk much.”  
  
Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” he asked, disbelievingly. Arthur didn’t talk too much? Perhaps the boy was mixing up the royal prattler with someone else.  
“Yeah and it’s really odd.” The boy looked around the corridor before hissing to Merlin. “He doesn’t let me dress him.”  
  
Alright, the boy was definitely talking about someone else. The last time Merlin served Arthur, the clotpole couldn’t even put his own shirt on… now he was dressing himself?  
  
“How about I take those clothes to him?” Merlin suggested to the sweating boy.  
  
“Nah. I couldn’t let you do that.”  
  
“Honestly. I was going there anyway.”  
  
The boy looked hesitant, but finally nodded. “I have to muck out the stables too. It would be a big help if you could.”  
  
Merlin tried not to look too eager as he took the pile of clothes from the boy and scuttled over to Arthur’s room. Even after all this time it felt so natural to do chores for Arthur, he mused, as he knocked on the door.  
  
“Come in.” Arthur called, lazily.  
  
Merlin pushed open the door and grinned as he saw the king still sprawled out in his bed.  
  
“Alright, let’s have you lazy daisy.” he said, teasingly as he closed the door sharply behind him.

 

Merlin pulled the shirt on Arthur and stood back to admire his handiwork, like he had done every day for years. He could see a look of adoration appear in the king’s blue eyes and he quickly ducked to grab the robe that had fallen onto the ground. He threw it around Arthur’s shoulders, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to fasten the robe’s clasp. Had they changed the design of the damn thing?  
  
“Merlin?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“You won’t… leave me, will you?”  
  
Merlin’s head jerked up in surprise.  
  
“My side.. I mean.” Arthur said, hastily, “You’ll be by my side for good, won’t you?”  
  
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.  
  
“Of course, you’re my King.” Merlin said, matter-of-factly. He gave up and used magic to fasten the clasp. It clicked and he looked up at Arthur, a smirk playing on his lips, “and I’m your Warlock.”


End file.
